Every Night
by Hookedonapirate
Summary: Captain Swan AU based on this prompt with the roles reversed: "It's midnight when Emma hears someone playing the piano in the apartment above her. They're playing the song from Titanic 'My heart will go on'. She opens her door and yells 'Jack'. The music stops and she hears someone running down the hall above her shouting 'Rose'."


Every night he hears the piano playing from upstairs. The soft melody, the smooth transition of the keys, the familiar ballads that he's heard a thousand times now. He hears it when he comes home from a long day at the docks, he hears it when he's sitting on the fire escape nursing a glass of rum, he hears it when he sleeps.

The music invades his dreams even when he's unconscious. He can hear it occasionally when he's in the shower or when he's reading. He has all of the songs memorized, unable to shake them from his mind. He's often humming the tunes when he hears the smooth melody echoing off the walls above his ceiling. He's humming the tunes even when he's not at home.

Killian's never met the mysterious neighbor upstairs whose songs taunt him on a daily basis. He imagines his neighbor is a woman, he imagines she's just as beautiful and lovely as her one of her numbers. He wonders what she looks like and what kind of shapes her lips form when she's playing the piano. He imagines her getting lost in her music, letting her fingers unconsciously work their own magic on the keyboard. He wonders what she wears or how she does her hair when playing such fine tunes. Is her hair long with curls splayed over one shoulder or straight and pinned up in a bun?

He thinks about his neighbor often, hoping one day he will meet her. Would she even like him or would he scare her off? Would she like his leather jackets or his unruly hair? Would she like his AC/DC t-shirts or his sarcastic humor? Would she mind that he drinks rum on occasion or has a tendency to leave the toilet seat up after he uses the restroom. Would she mind his DVD collection or how tidy he keeps his flat? All of these things plague him constantly, hoping someday he'll get the chance to find out.

What would they even talk about? Music, he fathoms. He used to play the guitar before he injured his hand. Now he can only appreciate the sound of someone else's songs. Which is fine by him. He could listen to his neighbor's music for all of eternity. He would never admit it though. He'd never admit that he enjoys a good, satisfying love ballad.

When his mates come over to visit, he often complains about his neighbor and her annoying music. He'd never let them know that he hums along to songs like Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" or the Aladdin number "A Whole New World". He'd never fess up to the fact that the famous track from Titanic "My Heart Will Go On" is his all time favorite song played by his neighbor. If he did mention such things to his mates, he'd never hear the end of it. The mocking and teasing would never stop.

He would never be able to explain the effect his neighbor's piano skills has on him; how the melody captures his attention and livens up his small lonely apartment, the sound enveloping each room in such a way that makes him feel less isolated. His neighbor's tunes often put a smile upon his face when he comes home from a dreary day. He can relax and put his feet up on the coffee table with a glass of rum, just listening to her play.

Tonight is one of those nights. He's listening to her music, a low rumble in his throat as he hums along to the tune. He only takes a sip of his drink between numbers. It's the stroke of midnight when she starts playing "My Heart Will Go On" and he gets goosebumps. He always gets goosebumps when she plays that song, a chill shooting down his spine. And maybe it's the alcohol in his system or the way he gets caught up in her melody. Or maybe he's just losing it all together that night, but he starts playing out the scene of Titanic in his head when Jack is handcuffed and trapped in one of the rooms while the floor starts flooding with water. Jack hears Rose calling his name and starts yelling back so she can find him.

It's been awhile since Killian's watched the movie, but it activates the waterworks every time.

Thinking about the film, he unexpectedly feels the urge to stand up from the sofa and does just that. Getting up on the coffee table, he extends his hand dramatically, calling out, "Rose!"

Suddenly the music stops and he hears a female voice shouting back at him. "Jack!"

Killian jumps off of the coffee table and goes over to the door, opening it, his voice producing a more powerful noise. "Roooose!"

He then hears footsteps running down the hall above him. "Jaaaack!"

Killian emerges from his flat and he hears a door slam shut as he follows the voice and runs down the corridor, taking the first few steps of the staircase. "Rooooose!"

"Jaaaaaack!"

He hears the voice directly above him now and looks up, seeing a woman staring down at him over the banister. Her beauty takes his breath away. Her hair is cascading over the railing in long, golden curls and her eyes are a glistening green, her lips red and parting softly.

Killian runs the rest of the way up the stairs and he's panting for more than one reason. He reaches her, his eyes taking in her entire form. She's barefoot and wearing a long, pale blue nightgown made of silk and lace. Her high cheekbones are flushed with a rosy shade of pink, her pale skin soft and creamy.

She looks like an angel.

Managing to summon a warm smile, he extends his hand, offering it to her. "The name's Killian," he breathes out in a shaky voice. "Killian Jones. And you must be the mysterious piano player I presume?"

A coy simile curves her lips and she blushes even more. Eyeing his offered hand, she hesitates ever so briefly before slipping her palm into his. Her touch is gentle and warm, and his heart speeds up in response, pounding erratically against his rib cage. "Yes. Emma Swan. And you're the guy from downstairs who's always humming," she laughs.

Killian nods, feeling his cheeks growing warm with blush. "Aye, that would be me. Sorry if it's annoying."

"Please... I'm sorry if my music is too loud," she apologizes. Her voice is just as soft and delicate as she looks.

"It's not a problem, lass." Kilian raises her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to the back of her fingers, his eyes never breaking away from hers. He hears the small hitch in her breath as he brushes his lips along her skin. He reluctantly tears his mouth away, flashing her a soft smirk and offering a flirty lift of his brow. "In fact I quite fancy your music."

Emma's smile overtakes her face, her cheeks the darkest shade of red and her green eyes sparkling with curiosity as he releases her hand. "Thank you," she murmurs, shyly glancing down at the floor.

Killian scratches behind his ear nervously, peering down at his feet as he tries to speak again, but her beauty overwhelms him and he finds it very difficult to form words. He knows the question is bold but he can't help but ask. "Do you mind if I watch you play?"

She lifts her eyes to his again, appearing to be intrigued by his offer as she speaks in a soft, delicate voice. "Okay."

Killian follows Emma to her apartment and she offers him some hot tea before allowing him to join her on the piano bench. Her fingers move easily and naturally, stroking every key with so little effort as her mouth purses into a soft pout. Emma's hair is gathered over one shoulder, exposing the other side of her long, slender neck to him. Her emerald depths are gentle and focused, and every so often she closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip, which he finds to be very enchanting. The music she produces from her fingertips sounds even more magical up close. The tune is gorgeous but doesn't hold a candle to her physical beauty as she gets lost in her talent. He's completely captivated by her. He watches her play for what seems like hours and by the end of the night, he wants so badly to kiss her.

Before she finishes the last number, she's gazing over at him with a smile, her fingers still playing the keys as he somehow finds the courage deep inside of him to act on his desires. He slowly leans in, lifting his hand to her cheek as he kisses her softly on the lips. She hits a few wrong notes before tearing her fingers away and curling her hand around the sleeve of his shirt responding to the kiss with the same tenderness. Tilting his head slightly, his thumb affectionately strokes her cheekbone as her other hand slides through his hair, fingers caressing his sculpt and bringing him closer. Her creamy skin is so silky and smooth, her lips exquisitely soft as he deepens the kiss, getting caught up in her warmth. His heart is skipping beats and his breath is quivering when he finally breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers for balance.

The moment is a bit awkward as they try to catch their breaths, so he flashes her a slanted smile, breaking the silence with a breathy whisper. "Promise me you'll never let go…" He's not sure if that's exactly how the line goes but he's too far gone from the kiss to care.

A delicate smile crosses her lips as she replies, her voice strangled and wrecked as she nuzzles her nose against his. "I'll never let go, Jack… I'll never let go." No longer able to contain her composure, she lets out an adorable snort and they finally pull away from each other so as not to smack their heads together as they share a laugh.

He goes back to his apartment just after two in the morning, his fingers brushing over his lips, still feeling the tingle from her kiss. If there's one thing he learned that night, it's the undeniable truth.

Killian's neighbor is everything he imagined and more.


End file.
